Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1887-04-07

he had been IN the west, and had been busy
all these years
Tell me what has happened in Lnwood,H
he said. Il have not a heard a word from it
since left. thought you would have been
married long ago, Shirley"
She looked at him little reproachfully;
then suddenly, as the thought Of all she had
lost since be left her came back, shadow Of
grief and pain came over her bright, sweet
face She told him Of her fathers terrible
death, Of the loss of her fortune of how she
was in his old place as teacher.
write for newspapers, too," she said,
Frightening again. Il condense solemn infor-
nation from agricultural reports for the read
ers of The Morning Herald can tell you
to dot, too, what effect the new dog tax
law is going to have on the politics of the
state.n
"But why do you not write your poemG'
She flushed slightly. "Mother is an in
valid" she said awe need so many things.
must do all can to get money. II have
so much to look after. 1t seems as though
never get time to commence my poem. But
I have not given it up, Mr.. Morrison. Don't
think that"
Her voice quivered little.
The master read and perceived.
II SEQ it ALL" he said sadly. "You are
father and mother and bread winner to them
ALL never looked for this for you. Ny dear
girl, my poor Shirley"
He stroked her hair softly, and with in
finite tenderness.
Mr.. Morrison fingered on from day to day.
He seemed not to be able to break the light
oh hot hol la
restless and i'll at ease. He spoke of going
from day to day, though he did not 60 He
was reserved, and kept apart from the rest
But he lowered about Shirley always, not
oppressively, but just enough. He wrote half
her reports for her. He had the fine graceful
tact, the polished ease of manner of one who
knows just what to do in the right place. He
knew and met her every little wish, almost
besore it was formed He never seemed to
be looking for her, but ever his eyes sought
hers with messages of courage and sympathy.
Shirley was in q paradise. 1t was so
strangely sweet to her, the lonely girl, to find
somebody who thought she needed help and
sympathy. 1t is the doom of those who
spend their lives caring for others, that none
ever fancy they themselves need to be taken
care Of
Little things are much to a woman, very
much.
1t was the first time since her father died
that anybody had taken a thought of Shirleys
happiness and comfort. In six years it had
occurred to nobody that she had any little
wants or wishes of her own. Therefore was
this human sympathy unspeakably sweet to
her.
The world shaking deliberations of the
Psycho-physikethicolo drew to close.
The last afternoon these phosphoric intellects
so far forgot their mission as to have u pic
mic. One blushes to record it. They amused
themselves. Many went on boat excursions
over the lake.
SHIRLEY" said Mr.. Morrison, II want you
to come with me this evening. This is the
last. Wear your white dress, too, and put
rose in your hair. That is how wish to re-
member you. am to have you all to my
self this evening, mind"
He led her to the beach and seated her in
little skiff. He took the oars himself. With
few powerful strokes they shot out into the
moonlit lake.
II have found place along the lake that
want to show you," he said. II think it will
please you."
In half an hour he tied the boat at the shore
i'll the deep hollow of tiny crescent bay. A
cluster of beautiful trees grew there. Near
by brook tumbled over a cliff, and then
gathered itself up and went on again into the
lake. The summer wind murmured low
among the trees. The miniature waterfall
murmured back in music. The drops of
water made q million white lights in the
moonbeams. All was cool and restful
Shirley clasped her hands with delight.
"How lovely How lovely this isl"
Thought you would like it," said the mas
ter, quietly.
AL that afternoon they had been near each
other. In company with two or three of the
learned lights, they had gone botanizing, pic
nicking, naturalisting, and the Lord knows
what. 1t had been in way, like the van
| isheo days of Linwood, yet different. Yes,
there was difference now.
| Little matter was it that they had not been
alone. They were happier, perhaps, on that
account. The sweet, subtle sympathy that
Joined them could well be left unspoken. The
silver line stretched between them, invisible
to all but themselves.
They found seat beneath the beautiful
trees.
Shirley sat in silence, with her hands softly
clasped in her lap, and looked out at the wa
ter and moonlight
"This has been the happiest day of my
life," said Mr. Morrison, at length
"And mine, too," replied Shirley, hardly
knowing what she said.
| He leaned toward her till his head touched
the rose in her hair. Was it the wind, or the
brook, or what was it that whispered in tones
broken and sweet.
II fight no more against the tidel Shirley,
my star, my lilyi Oh, how love you!"
But they were a kingly pair, these two
strong, beautiful onesl
Lower and lower the southern moon dipped
its rays shimmered across the waterfall, but
they did not heed it. At last he arose with q
start
"Do you know how late it is, Shirley?"
sNo," says Shirley, "and Pm afraid to ask.
They entered the tiny boat hastily. The
last rays of the southern moon glinted acrosl
the whispering waterfall.
In the cool night silence they went to Shir
ley's cottage, they two. The swinging laml
yet burned in the porch. They passed il
through the hallway. .s
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